Three Queens, Ace High
by Livkit
Summary: They were just four young women, chasing life and love in Santa Monica. They collided, and so began the Ourosboros. AuroRapunzElsAnna.


**Disclaimer:** I write ideas. Frozen, Sleeping Beauty, Tangled, etc—that all belongs to Disney. Don't own Wicked either—I think that honour goes to Universal Stage Productions.

 **Feedback:** Always appreciated.

 **In Case You Missed It:** Three Queens, Ace High began its life as a Camp NaNoWriMo idea provided to me by a good friend, and while that idea will still be present in TQAH, the overall concept metamorphosed into something that I'm writing for myself. As such, this is kind of slow paced, and may not be to everyone's liking. I've estimated that one particular plot point may not be revealed until the three million word mark, and honestly, that is a little mind boggling.

 **Other Notes of Import:** As I'm writing this for myself, it'll be updated when it is. That said, I'll note that I appear to have found a method of writing that's seen semi-significant progress on several stories, so things may be posted more regularly. No promises though.

 **Ships:** AuroRapunzElsAnna.

 **Thanks to:** punzelsanna for allowing me to borrow Miss Arendelle of Table for Three and for beta assistance, and to caffeinatedzayl777 for beta assistance.

 **Three Queens, Ace High.**  
 **Chapter One: Initial Collisions**

Monday, May 8th, 2017.

Elsa stirred cocoa powder into the milk, glancing at the clock. Five minutes remained until the end of her shift. A voice broke into her thoughts, coming from above her head.

"You should have left some twenty minutes ago."

Elsa stepped off to the side, as if to allow access to the kitchen area, half turning to look at Gaston, before her eyes darted down to her styrofoam cup, sipping her hot mint chocolate. "This shift ends at eight am."

"When you're not allowed to introduce yourself, your shift's over. And your shift ended almost half an hour ago," Gaston said.

Elsa gripped her cup, swallowing the liquid. "Incorrect syntax." She took a deep breath. "If current shift minutes remaining is less than thirty _and_ next shift lady availability equals true, then one does not introduce one's self, elseif current shift minutes remaining is less than thirty _and_ next shift lady availability equals false, then one does introduce one's self."

Gaston rolled his eyes. "There you go babbling your incomprehensible shit again. Kiddo, you can just leave."

"The owners enforce a standard contract stipulating our presence for the duration of our scheduled shifts. This shift ends at eight am."

The clock began to chime the hour, and Elsa drained the last of her hot chocolate, tossing the cup in the bin. She walked over to the lockers, slipping off her high heels as she did, placing them in an unused locker, followed by her dress. She fiddled with her combination lock, yanking the locker door open.

"If you had used the last half hour to dress, you could be gone now," Gaston said, abandoning his attempts to make a French style coffee.

"Street clothing is not permitted during shift hours," Elsa said, pulling on a knee length black skirt, a light blue blouse and a lower heeled style of her work heels. "I was unable to change my attire until my shift had ended; I was still expected to be in appropriate attire that ensured compliance with the desired image of Holly's—attractive, sensual, and sophisticated."

"Do you mind making an ounce of fucking sense for once?"

Elsa pulled her satchel out, slinging the strap over her shoulder. "I was not aware of any ambiguity in my statements. What was unclear?" Despite her lowered head, her words were clear, albeit rapid. She shut her locker door with a sudden bang, beginning to wander along the row of lockers. Reaching the end, she turned around, repeating the process.

Before Gaston could reply, the intercom crackled. "James, you have a regular to see you."

Gaston gave Elsa a last derisive look, leaving for the greeting lounge.

TQAH

Elsa halted at the counter that served as the downstairs reception, her eyes never leaving her Samsung Galaxy S7. Having just been turned on, it was vibrating in her hand as notifications for app updates and new emails came through. She made a cursory look at the emails; most ended up deleted, though one she opened immediately.

 _Please call me by eight-thirty._

 _Miss Arendelle,_  
 _Foster and Associates Architecture._

Elsa checked the time; it was already twenty-three past. She glanced between the counter, where the receptionist was idly tapping away at the computer, and the hallway that led to the private carpark the ladies used. Keeping her eyes on the counter, she spoke.

"It is Monday. We arrange our schedules for work on Mondays."

"Just wait there," the receptionist said, tapping at the computer.

Elsa flicked her eyes back to her phone, fingers tapping an empty section to keep the phone from going black. The clock ticked over another minute, and then another.

"I have a phone call to make by eight-thirty."

"Then go outside and make it."

"I worked the night shift," Elsa said. "The contract says if I leave before arranging my schedule, I do not work this week." The clock ticked over to eight twenty-eight, and Elsa's fingers sped up in their thrumming against the screen.

"Mia? Are you okay?"

Elsa didn't need to look up to know Holly had come in. She broke into rapid pacing, the words spilling out at speed. "If worked nightshift and have not arranged schedule, schedule is one, elseif did not work nightshift and have not arranged schedule, schedule is two, elseif nightshift matches either of the previous conditions and have arranged schedule, schedule is three, else schedule is four. Switch, schedule, case equals one, one must arrange schedule before leaving, break..."

Holly whirled on her receptionist, ignoring Elsa's continuing talking. "What the actual _fuck_ did you do to her!?"

"She wanted to arrange her schedule, but I was in the middle of doing payroll, so she had to wait until I was at least finished doing the current employee."

"That wouldn't have set her off," Holly said. "What else?"

"She said something about a phone call she had to make by eight thirty."

Holly looked up to the clock, seeing the clock tick over to eight-thirty, and right on cue Elsa wailed, bursting into tears.

"She's such a fucking baby," the receptionist said.

Holly slammed a hand down on the counter, and the receptionist jumped.

"Stand up, and move away from the computer," she said, biting off each word. "Lock the entrance doors, and go to my office. I'll finalise your termination when I've sorted Mia out." Leaning over, she hit the intercom. "Is anyone there?"

"Holly?"

"Good morning, Bella. Come to the reception, please. We're closing for an hour or so."

Holly went over to Elsa, placing an arm around her shoulders once her sobs subsided. She kept her touch light, and began to lead Elsa to a private room. Elsa offered no resistance, not even when Holly pushed her down onto a couch. She wordlessly accepted the mug of hot chocolate that Holly made, though Elsa put it on the table almost at once.

Holly sat on the couch beside Elsa, leaving a respectable amount of space, pulling out a Samsung Tab A.

"Let's see... oh! It's been nine weeks; we need to schedule your STD test."

Silence filled the room for several seconds before Elsa began to turn her phone over in her hands, looking at the device. "There is nothing planned for this week if they can fit me in."

"They're a private clinic, Mia; we pay them well to fit you in."

A phone call later, Elsa's appointment was set for the next day. "You know the drill; results by Wednesday; send me a message if you'll be unable to work. You finished university last week. Will you be taking any summer sessions?"

"Not this month," Elsa said. "I still have time to decide for the two remaining."

Holly tapped the screen. "I can't let you work until Thursday. Last week, you worked Saturday and Sunday nights. Do you want to change that for this week?"

Elsa nodded, ceasing to turn her phone over and over.

"What do you want for this week?"

"I want overnights for Friday and Saturday both. Four pm until eight am."

Holly smiled and tapped at the screen. "Don't be late." She set the tablet aside. "It's five to nine. Would you like me to call for you and explain?"

Whatever answer Elsa would have made was interrupted by Elsa's phone ringing. Holly smiled at her, leaving the room as Elsa answered.

"Hello?"

"This is Miss Arendelle, Miss Iskall. I realised you might not have gotten my email. Following the practical completion inspections last week, and the agreement that work was done as specified, I'd like to meet with you for final inspections to ensure the installed appliances meet with your approval. It's my understanding they match the contract; your confirmation will allow handover to proceed."

"I will be there in less than fifteen minutes."

"That's fine, Miss Iskall. I look forward to meeting with you."

TQAH

The ice blue Lexus pulled into the driveway, the engine stopping. As Elsa stepped out, a smartly dressed woman walked over, a bright smile on her face.

"I've gone through the houses, Miss Iskall. Once again, I commend you on your incredible foresight; with the rental properties alone, you stand to make a considerable investment."

Elsa nodded. "I would like to look at the rental properties first, please; I have a realty waiting for confirmation that the houses can be made available. They have said a considerable amount of people have expressed interest in their availability."

"Of course, Miss Iskall."

The weather was typically Californian, so the two women elected to walk around the properties.

"I wanted to live on Ocean Avenue," Elsa said as they walked into the Ocean Avenue property. "You were correct. Miss Arendelle, in saying the land was better divided to put my new home on Washington Avenue instead."

"You didn't like my points, though you accepted my points far better than most others would've," Miss Arendelle said. "I've yet to have a horrible client myself... but I've heard far too many horror stories."

Having conducted thorough inspections the previous week, Elsa saw no need to linger in the house. After the months of building, Miss Arendelle was used to her client's quirks, and so she followed Elsa back outside, where she unlocked a gate to what was functionally an alleyway.

"I'm not sure I follow the logic here, though I ensured it's as you wanted. Fencing off your land I understand; but leaving a four foot gap between that fence and where the property begins that people can walk through?"

"It is locked at either side, and the people living in my houses will have a key to unlock it. No others."

Miss Arendelle dropped it as they reached the First Court property, where the appliance inspection was even more perfunctory, if that was possible. Given Elsa's near obsessive focus on the details of the building processes, she'd expected a much more thorough accounting.

"I trust the appliances have met with your approval?" she said as they walked up First Court. "You haven't really inspected them..."

"The appliances were installed Saturday; the inspector that was with me Friday did me a favour and came back to test them. I received that report yesterday, Miss Arendelle. The appliances are perfect in that regard. I only care that the brands and models are as I specified."

"That's different to some clients."

Elsa halted by her car, reaching in for her satchel. "Your company was highly recommended, Miss Arendelle. You have shown exactly why that is. Shall we complete handover inside?"

Miss Arendelle retrieved a briefcase, tossing Elsa a set of keys. "This is where you plan to live, so why don't you let me in this time?"

TQAH

As the door swung open, Elsa was hit with the 'new house' smell, and the first thing she did was head to the windows, opening them wide. Fans whirred to life as she entered the kitchen, and Miss Arendelle gestured at the switches.

"I figured you'd want them on."

Elsa nodded, waiting as Miss Arendelle set her briefcase onto the counter and opened it.

"It looks like a lot, I know," Miss Arendelle said, placing keys and fobs into three distinct piles. "Each house comes with two sets of keys; I figured that you'd like to keep keys for your rental properties in case of an emergency. The remotes are for the garages, and I hope that I've put them with the correct house." Lifting up each group of keys, she placed a display book under each set. "Each book contains various certificates and warranties for you to take possession of, as well as copies of legal papers, building information..."

"I was to pay the final ten percent at handover," Elsa said, pulling out her check book. She pulled the check from the book, handing it over.

Miss Arendelle checked the amount and smiled, putting it away and writing Elsa her receipt. "Congratulations, Miss Iskall."

Elsa took her receipt, walking Miss Arendelle to the door. "Thank you, Miss Arendelle. I understand tokens of appreciation are sometimes given out." Elsa handed over two checks, written out to Arendelle and Bjorgman. "There should be space enough for you to insert first names. Goodbye, Miss Arendelle."

The door closed, though Miss Arendelle was too busy trying to comprehend the amounts written on the checks to notice.

TQAH

Anna stirred from her half sleep an instant before the strains of 'Rent' issued from her Nokia E72. One hand fell from her mattress, tapping along the floor before it found the phone and pressed the button to kill the alarm. The slight chill acquired from her explorations dissipated as she pulled her hand back into the warmth of the covers, and Anna rolled over, cracking an eye open. The side-shelf of her desk met her gaze, where a stack of envelopes stood. Anna stifled a groan, pushing herself up and raking her hands through her hair.

"Why did I think it was a good idea to leave them there?"

Grabbing the envelopes, she stood up properly and stretched. She reached over, giving the chair a gentle push. It slid under the desk, wobbling, and Anna watched it until it had stopped before easing her way between the desk and the wall. It was a matter of steps to the corner that served as a kitchen, and Anna ignored the dishes waiting to be done in favour of tossing the junk into her recycling container. She looked at the last envelope, and yanked the fridge door far harder than required.

It opened with a bang, and the plate of Chinese leftovers she'd intended to have for breakfast met its end on the floor. Anna stared at the mess, and checked the door, seeing only an empty water bottle. A glance at her sink found her water filtration jug waiting to be washed, and she slammed the door closed, taking a deep breath.

"Okay, today can't get any worse," she said, ripping the last envelope open and pulling the letter out.

 _This letter is to inform you that, as of May 7th, 2017, Zootopi A Holdings have acquired all rights and responsibilities relating to the premises located at..._

 _...all tenants must have vacated the premises by June 10th, 2017. Failure to comply may see you held liable for any monetary loss sustained by Zootopi A Holdings._

Anna shredded the letter as she walked over to her desk, grabbing the towel and bundle set of clean clothes she'd placed there last night.

"Maybe things will look better after a shower."

TQAH

Anna hefted her bag up, using the free hand to open a bin, and with a squishy sort of thunk, the bag hit the bottom. Letting the lid drop, she stepped over to the outside tap, and took a moment to bask in the sunlight.

"...at least they don't look _worse_ ," she said.

"What doesn't look worse?"

She turned around, seeing a topless man carrying two bulging bags of garbage. He was solidly built, muscles rippling over every exposed inch that Anna could see. She stepped out of the way, watching him dispose of his garbage.

"This morning was already off to a great start when I read this stupid letter about us vacating the premises. Thought things would look better after a shower; they really don't."

"Ah, that letter." He extended his hand, and then thought better of it. "I think I live on a different floor; I'm Kristoff."

"Anna. You've read it, then?"

"Got it last Thursday," Kristoff said. "I spent the weekend cleaning up my place... you know, I figured that if I cleaned the place up, then when moving day came it'd be a matter of moving stuff I was keeping. I remember how much crap I threw out to move in here, and it seems like I've managed to get it all back, and more besides."

"I put all my stuff in storage."

Kristoff smiled. "It's been nice chatting, Anna, but I should get back to it."

"Agreed; I have a day of looking for a new place to live ahead of me."

"Good luck!"

The door banged behind Kristoff, and after Anna had rinsed her hands, she headed off into the shopping/business district of Santa Monica.

TQAH

Anna claimed a bench outside a supermarket, pulling out her phone. One button press opened the list of contacts, her father's name first and last on the list. Another button press opened her father's contact 'page', and she stared at it. Three more button presses, and the call would be initiated. The phone dropped into her lap as she pulled her purse from her bag and fished out a bank receipt.

She had thirteen dollars, twenty-nine cents.

Even if those digits were arranged in the best possible configuration, ninety-three dollars didn't improve her position all that much.

She picked up her phone, calling her father.

"Hi, Daddy..." she said.

"I'm not interested in discussing it any further, Anna. I still control your inheritance, and I don't deem the time right to release it to you."

"...thank you for assuming me stupid enough to argue it with you again, after four hours of arguing last week couldn't even get me a reason _why_." She swallowed. "I'd wanted to talk money, but not concerning my inheritance. I lucked into my room—cheap enough that I could afford it until I got into the dorms, shitty enough that a lot of people were passing on it. The building's been sold, and there's no legal recourse to fight it."

"What do you want from me?"

Anna swallowed again. "I'm seeing the agent in a little while. I already emailed UCLA on the off chance one of their apartments off campus is available, but since I would've taken it when I arrived, I doubt it's changed in a fortnight. And I doubt very much that there's any other place around here that I can afford. So what do I want from you? A plane ticket home, probably."

There was a long silence.

"Let me look into things."

Before Anna could say anything, the call terminated. She shoved the phone into her pocket, slumping back. "Look into things? What does that even _mean_? Will he send me a plane ticket, or money to rent an apartment? Is there even a _point_ to seeing if I can find another place? ...but I should try."

She could see the realty sign in the distance, and she set off at a fast pace. Whatever the outcome of the meeting, there was still a chance of getting home and possibly setting up one of her gaming consoles... if she could find space. She'd have to find a game to play as well, and that was probably the harder task. The idea cheered her up somewhat, and she reached the realty offices just as a blonde woman exited.

The blonde was wearing a form fitting dress, and Anna found herself staring at her with appreciation. She walked over to a Lexus, turning back to Anna.

"You have nice tits too," she said, and as Anna spluttered, the blonde was in the car and driving away.

Anna looked down at her chest for a few seconds before shaking her head and entering the realty. The door chimed in response, and the receptionist looked up, giving her a sympathetic smile.

"You'll want to speak to Miss Tremaine, yes?"

"Yes please, if she's available."

The receptionist picked up the phone and tapped a button, speaking in a low tone before she hung up, nodding to Anna. "She's coming out now."

Miss Tremaine walked out of the back. "I thought I'd see you earlier than this, but no matter. I'm busy with sorting this business out, and you are certainly part of that. Come along, dear. Would you like a drink?"

"Water, please," Anna said.

Once they were in the office, and Anna was armed with a glass of water, Miss Tremaine looked at the computer screen. She typed away for a few minutes, before looking at Anna. "I'm sorry, dear. Even with the financial assistance from Zootopi A Holdings, unless you tell me that your situation has changed, I'm not sure I'll be able to help much."

Anna shrugged. "It hasn't changed. But you mentioned financial assistance?"

Miss Tremaine nodded, typing some more. "Zootopi A Holdings set aside a small fund for those needing some extra assistance; you're both lucky and unlucky. It was not a set division, and most of the people have said they won't need it. This means I can get you a larger portion, though it won't be enough to get you into a new place. I don't suppose you've made any friends that might be willing to house share?"

"I've been looking for a job, not friends."

Miss Tremaine nodded. "Understandable. You still have a little less than five weeks, however, and I'll keep my eye out for anything that may seem suited to you."

"How much is the cheapest place going for?"

"That'd be a one year lease at fifteen hundred dollars a month. The place has nine hundred fifty square feet, one bath and a shared laundry. Deposit and fees amount to sixteen hundred fifty. While the assistance will be between seven and nine thousand dollars, even this is somewhat out of your budget, I believe."

She squeezed Anna's hand, and Anna stood, offering a smile.

"Thank you for your time, Miss Tremaine."

TQAH

Anna pulled out her phone to check the time—ten-fifty—and was about to slip it back into her pocket when 'For Good' came from the speakers. She fumbled with the keys, the text message opening.

 _Miss Brannild, your monthly payment is overdue as of this date of May 8th, 2017. As per our policy, you have until May 12th to make the payment, or remove your possessions from storage._  
 _Santa Monica Storage._

"I thought the 'today couldn't get any worse clause' was supposed to bite you in the ass _once_!"

She pressed the buttons to power the phone off, shoving the phone back in her pocket as her stomach grumbled. Subway caught her eye, but she turned away from it, heading for the supermarket. The walk calmed Anna's emotions, and she bounced into the supermarket with a bit more of her usual pep. Grabbing a basket, she headed down the first aisle.

TQAH

Aurora navigated the turn into the parking lot, joining a line of cars. She stuck her head out of the window, getting a better angle on the line.

"What the hell possessed everyone to go shopping _today_?" she said, inching the car along. "We're going to be slammed, and Boss Dipshit will be even more of an ass. Everyone's too fucking scared of losing their jobs to do anything about the illegal shit he pulls... I can't be the only one waiting for him to go a step too far so that we're free to register our complaints without worrying about retaliation."

The line inched along, and soon the car in front took a turn into employee parking. Aurora raised an eyebrow, not seeing the employee tag that had to hang in the back window, and followed the car, seeing it park in bay four. Grabbing her phone, she composed a quick message to security, watching as a couple got out. When they began to get kids out, she sent the message and stepped out of the car, pressing a button on her phone's home screen.

"I don't see your employee tag," Aurora said.

"Fuck off, blondie; we'll park wherever there's a space."

"Fine by me; I'll just call our security. Your car will be towed, and you'll be paying the associated costs. You can see the signs on the supports that state our policy."

"How about you shut the fuck up before I wreck that pretty little face? Might look a little better with two black eyes to teach you a lesson, huh?"

"Get in your car and leave. This won't need to go any further," Aurora said.

The man took a step towards her, and Aurora held her ground. This seemed to infuriate him, and he leapt at her, swinging his fist back. Something hit him in the side, and he smashed to the ground, a security guard on top of him.

"Took you long enough," Aurora said.

"We're packed today," the guard said. "I'm glad I got here before he could touch you. Still have him on attempted assault, though, on top of the car getting towed. Can you send me your recording?"

"You know me." Aurora tapped the screen, and within seconds, the voice recording of the encounter was on the guard's phone.

"Thanks. Give me your keys and get inside, they're sure to need you on the registers. I'll park your car once I've dealt with this."

Aurora dropped the keys into the guard's hand, making a point of avoiding the family as she went inside.

TQAH

"We're slammed, Aurora! Get clocked in and go open the last checkout!"

"When I took this job, I was told we didn't get slammed, not at _this_ hour of the day!" Aurora clocked in, pinning her nametag on. "It's six am... and it's not even Black Friday..."

"I think there's been some crisis, so we're getting people who would normally go to other places! Not that the internet's telling me anything, in the few moments I've had to look into it!"

"And I was so looking forward to the infinite drudge of repetitive, mindless pallet recording," Aurora said. "Instead, I get the infinite drudge of repetitive, faith-in-humanity destroying customer checkout."

"Just go, girl!"

Aurora grabbed the required items for opening a checkout and went up to the front, smiling as she saw checkout four had been left for her. As she activated the register, customers were already joining her lane, and she settled into the task of scanning and bagging, talking to the shoppers on autopilot. It was a job requirement to be polite and engaged with customers, and one that Aurora tried to fulfil, but with the number of people who felt it appropriate to talk about their family member just going into prison, or the boil right next to a delicate place preventing them from expressing love, or whatever daily event that just had to be expressed publically... autopilot saved her sanity, and most of the stories were forgotten within the day.

Aurora really wished she could forget the boil story.

"Miss, have you ever thought about acting?"

Aurora blinked, looking up from scanning items. Some checkout lanes were closed, and her legs ached something fierce, but the massive slam was more than over. Her register said it was close to a rest break, and she turned her attention back to the customer. He wore a tailored suit of black and grey, and a handkerchief peeking out of his pocket was emblazoned with the Armani logo.

"Uh, no?"

"No agent, no experience?"

"Why should that matter?" She scanned the last of his items. "That's three hundred ninety one dollars and twenty cents. Cash or card?"

He handed her cash, along with a business card. "Come see me. I'm a scout of sorts... talent is less important than having the right look for some shows, and you, my dear, why, you're exactly what this new show wants for the lead."

Aurora pocketed the card to be polite, getting him his change. He walked off with his shopping, and a woman, attired in similarly expensive clothing started on about the price of everything she was wearing. Aurora tuned her out, trying to focus on the scanning. As she sent a jar of mayonnaise through, it slipped, hitting the floor. The sole blessing was that it didn't go anywhere near the woman.

"Cleaners to checkout four, please," she said, speaking into the checkout microphone. "And another jar of... Duke's Real Mayonnaise, please." Turning to the woman, and the redhead still waiting, Aurora tried to look apologetic. "My apologies, ladies. We'll have you on your way soon."

The delay wasn't more than a couple of minutes, but even so, the woman turned away with a disdainful sniff, saying, "And now I'll be late for luncheon. I hope you're happy!"

"I hope you're happy now," Aurora said, her voice just loud enough for the woman to hear. "I hope you're happy how you hurt your cause forever; I hope you think you're clever!"

The woman turned back, but before she could speak, a redhead burst into song.

"I hope _you're_ happy, I hope you're happy, too!" she said. "I hope you're proud how you would grovel in submission to feed your own ambition!"

Aurora looked at the redhead, who grinned, and then in tandem... "So though I can't imagine how, I hope you're happy right now!"

Aurora scanned the redhead's ramen packages, and the redhead paid. As the redhead gathered her bags, the store manager walked up, Aurora's earlier customer with him. Aurora sighed.

"Aurora, you are hereby dismissed for violating the terms of your contract, specifically to be polite and respectful towards customers."

The other checkouts went silent, the staff turning to stare at Aurora.

"...is that your final word on the matter, sir?" Aurora said.

"It is."

Aurora smirked, pulling out her phone, dialling. "Mr Howe? This is Aurora Dormir. As I no longer need fear retaliation, please proceed."

The staff began smirking as the store manager stared at Aurora.

"What did you just do?" he said.

"Instructed my lawyer at Dewey, Cheatham and Howe to take action on the numerous refusals of paid rest breaks, unpaid meal breaks, the threats of retaliation for complaining... probably more, but I've forgotten everything I complained about."

The store manager turned pasty white.

The redhead cleared her throat. "Aurora, come with me. Think of what we could do, together." She took a breath. "Unlimited... together we're unlimited; together we'll be the greatest team there's ever been, Aurora... dreams, the way we planned 'em."

Aurora pulled her nametag off, throwing it on the conveyer belt. "If we work in tandem..."

The redhead paused, looking at Aurora. "Well? Are you coming?"

Aurora grinned, grabbing the redhead's hand, looking back at her store manager. "I hope you're happy, now that you're choosing this. I hope it brings you bliss. I really hope you get it, and you don't live to regret it."

The two exchanged looks, cackling before heading for the exit.

TQAH

As the automatic doors closed, cutting off the cacophonic uproar they'd left, Aurora turned to her compatriot, raising her hand in a quiet sign.

"I don't need an apology," Aurora said. "Getting fired was probably the best thing that could happen to me. Working there was a nightmare." The redhead opened her mouth, and Aurora shook her head. "It worked out for the best. When the company gets wind of the complaints... he gets fired, I get reinstated, we get our due compensation, and if we're very lucky, the company sues him for getting them in this mess."

"Wow."

"In any case, I should go apply for unemployment because I've no idea how long this will take, nor if I'll even get the job back. If you like, stranger, I'll give you a ride somewhere?"

The redhead smiled, shifting her bags to her other hand. "That would be appreciated," she said, her free hand tucking a strand of white streaked hair behind her ear. "I'm Anna. Where did you park?"

"Uh... in the employee section," Aurora said. As they headed for the car park, she tried to sound as nonchalant as possible. "Why the white streak?"

Anna shrugged. "I was born with it. Although I dreamt I was kissed by a troll."

Aurora stopped short, turning around. "Oh my god, you're whitestreakedginger! I follow your channel on YouTube and you haven't—"

"Uploaded anything since I came here for the summer," Anna said. "I'll be at UCLA in the fall for university. The plan was to come here, get a job and build my bank account up during the summer. Instead, I can't find a job, the one place I could afford to rent is being sold out from under me, it didn't have space for my gaming stuff _anyway_ so that's in storage that I can't afford, which meant internet was pointless, and my father still won't explain why I can't access my inheritance for educational expenses only!"

As she finished ranting, Anna pressed her hands against her face, pulling them through her hair. Dropping them, she followed Aurora to a hot pink Jeep Wrangler.

"Over two decades old, but it runs," Aurora said, unlocking the car.

"I haven't got a car. I don't think I'm in a position to be a snob over yours," Anna said, hoisting herself in.

As Aurora started the car, she looked over to Anna. "...my parents have a couple of spare rooms, unfurnished, so you'd need to provide furniture, and I'm not sure we have the internet you'd need, though maybe we can arrange something, and... oh, lork, I'm babbling. I think I can talk my parents into letting you stay for nothing. Just pay for your food and utilities. ...lork, I sound like a crazy stalker."

"Lork?" Anna said.

"I stayed in New England before coming here," Aurora said, beginning to navigate out of the car park. "There was a librarian who said 'lork'. Apparently Lork is a stork. Don't ask me for more details; I never did. Back to my offer: I know it's crazy, but it stands."

"Can I say something even crazier? Yes!"

Aurora smiled, looking at the clock. "My parents'll make the final decision, so... screw unemployment. It's only a little past twelve, let's go talk to them."

TQAH

All too soon, Aurora was pulling into the driveway of a modest-sized two story building. It was painted in white and grey, and looked pleasant enough, if mostly unrecognisable from any other house on the street.

"If you ever have the choice," Aurora said, "never live in an area ruled by a Homeowner Association. Some of them may be good, though all the stories I see on the internet suggest most are not, being ruled by people who delight in making arbitrary rules and then fucking you over the first chance they can. My mother can no longer grow prize winning roses, because they'd go higher than the fence, and that means a minimum twenty-five dollar per day fine until you cut them down."

"That can't be legal," Anna said. "Can it?"

"What little legal research I've been able to do suggests that it _is_ legal," Aurora said, hopping out and slamming her car door closed. "Not much we can do about it either. Come on." She hurried inside. "Anyone home? I brought a friend!"

Anna followed; her pace more sedate. Once inside, she looked around, seeing a potted plant on a shelf under the stairs, and framed photos of candid shots hanging along the wall. She smiled; it looked like a home, and she stepped closer to a photo of Aurora at what looked like her high school graduation.

"Mother, this is Anna. Anna, this is my mother, Leah Dormir."

Anna turned around, extending her hand to the older woman. Her eyes flicked between the two, noting the remarkable similarity. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Mrs Dormir."

"It's Leah, dear. Aurora says you're being thrown out of your home?"

"My home was a room in a former hotel," Anna said. "I'm not sure it deserves the name 'home'."

Leah blinked, walking through a doorway. "The living room's over here; we can talk more comfortably. I saw some online articles that mentioned that Zootopi A Holdings bought a former hotel, intending to restore it. Aurora, fetch some drinks and the leftover cookies, please."

"My letter didn't mention that. It's the same business, though," Anna said, plopping on the couch.

"What brings you to Santa Monica?" Leah said.

Aurora came in, carrying a tray of cookies, along with a pitcher of lemonade and three glasses, pouring everyone a glass before sitting next to Anna.

Anna leaned over and took a cookie, nibbling. "I had hoped to find a job for the summer before attending UCLA, though it's looking like my best option is to go back home. At home, I can resume my little gaming fiefdom."

"You have a fiefdom?" Aurora said. "What fiefdom?"

"I just started doing video games for YouTube for _fun_ ," Anna said. "Nothing special; everyone did that. I don't know why people started following me, but they did, and my videos started earning me money from views. Then my following became big enough and insistent enough that I started a about six months ago, though the 's never gotten above four hundred Norwegian kroner. Plus they started wanting whitestreakedginger merchandise."

"...you mean t-shirts and things? I want a t-shirt!"

"I would've started the Kickstarter for that last month, but I felt it smarter to get myself settled and organised here before doing that. I even put my on hiatus because I knew I might not be creating content for a while." Anna shrugged. "So yes, I have a fiefdom. I haven't made it really big—at best in a given month I'll make a thousand kroner from and YouTube combined. From what I understand, there are people out there making sixteen thousand kroner a month from YouTube _alone_."

Anna busied herself with drinking her lemonade, blushing.

"You'll need two rooms to resume your fiefdom, and improved internet, plus food," Leah said. She pulled out a phone, tapping the screen. "Hmm... sixty-three dollars, paid weekly on Friday, for each week or part thereof. I'll give you this week free for moving. Interested?"

"That price seems way too low, ma'am. It's seventy-five at my current place, and surely your rooms are bigger than it is..."

"We have no mortgage," Leah said. "As a general rule we eat quite well, and your addition into our meals will not increase that cost significantly. Your biggest impact would be the internet and electricity. I find sixty-three dollars a week to more than cover the cost, especially as Aurora is only paying fifty herself. However, if it would make you happier, I'll accept seventy-five a week."

"Aurora mentioned that the rooms weren't furnished..."

"It'll be up to you to provide that," Leah said. "Are you interested, dear?"

Anna nodded, and Aurora let out a squeal, grabbing her hand.

"Let's go get your stuff!"

Anna let Aurora drag her out, waving to Leah.

TQAH

In and of itself, the building wasn't anything special; looking much as it did like any other building in Santa Monica. The real beauty of this building was the four hundred and fifty square foot therapy garden the owner maintained for his patients. Bulda looked back at the blonde girl in the back seat before proceeding up the driveway, gravel crunching under the tyres. She wasn't sure the girl would even notice the garden. As she came to private side door to the psychologist's office, she swung into a parking space. Bulda turned the engine off and exited the car, smoothing her skirt before glancing into the back seat.

The girl hadn't shifted an inch. A troubled expression crossed Bulda's face; however, she remotely locked the car and walked to the door, where a balding man was now waiting.

"Hello, Bulda," he said. "The girl's in the car?"

Bulda nodded, and followed him inside. Taking a seat in the office, she gathered her thoughts, and accepted the cup of tea Pabbie brought her. "The girl was transferred to our care four weeks ago," she said. "We have observed her, and in my opinion there isn't much that can be done for her. Have you read the email, Pabbie?"

"Unfortunately, I've been busy with other clients this morning," Pabbie said, pulling out a notebook and pen. "If you'll give me a few minutes now, it won't take me long."

"I can summarise it," Bulda said, drinking some tea before setting the cup down. "About eight weeks ago, Austrian authorities found her in a house. She was committed to an involuntary psychiatric hold due to her mental state: she communicated nonsensically in snarls, and didn't appear to have any understanding of what was said to her. Her physical condition was excellent, despite being clothed in rags and covered in her own filth. Given how she submitted when they discovered a cattle prod, we assume she was physically abused."

Pabbie made a few notes. "Sexual abuse?"

"That's a complex answer." Bulda sipped more tea. "Ever since she was rescued, she hasn't spoken. Not a single word. You've had success at making people talk again, hence the consult. She became more assertive in the days following her rescue; she wasn't ever examined to determine sexual abuse. She wouldn't allow it. What that means... who knows? I have no basis for it, but in light of other events, I think she wasn't."

"What other events?"

"Her assumed captors were dead. Two were brothers, wanted for robbery and assault, and the third..." Bulda toyed with her cup. "It sounds ridiculous, but the female corpse crumbled to dust when they tried to move her. Given the presence of some Renaissance treasures in the house that were thought lost, some of the authorities postulated the notion she'd been alive since Renaissance times. Ridiculous notions aside, those treasures had rewards attached to their return, and the girl is the beneficiary of said rewards." She finished her tea and pushed the cup and saucer away. "Officially, we have no knowledge of her financial affairs..."

"The reward value of those treasures is known," Pabbie said. "I saw the papers. Twelve million US dollars."

"Once she was recognised as the beneficiary, she was transferred to us. We don't have enough staff for the patients we have, and she won't stay in her room. She's always walking around the grounds, and she spent the second week living in a tree. We didn't even notice!"

"I'd say she's had enough of confinement," Pabbie said. "If she was indeed kidnapped, then it would've been as a very young child, perhaps even as an infant to cause such dislike." Checking his notes, Pabbie frowned. "She refused the examination; slight communication. Are there any other incidents like that? And I presume that since she's not communicating, she has no name."

"We call her 'the girl' because she responds to that," Bulda said, scowling. "We've asked for her name; no answer. We tried Mandy and Mackenzie as names, and she never responded to them. I suppose those are communication incidents of a sort."

"Is there anything else? Perhaps with relation to her dislike of confinement?"

"Well, as I said, she's always on the grounds. Apart from that week of staying in the tree, she does come in at night, but she won't stay in her room... well. She stays in a room, on the condition she can leave at will. But that's not always her room. It might be the common room, or the showers; the important thing for her is that she can choose to leave. The one time we locked her in, she went out the window, found some tools, and took her door off."

Pabbie chuckled. "A resourceful girl... Bulda, why are you so pale?"

"The car..." Bulda jumped up, dashing out of the office.

TQAH

The first thing Bulda saw when she stepped outside was her car, all windows smashed.

"You idiot," Bulda said. She shook her head, thinking over her options. Standard procedure was to call the police in such cases... but the girl couldn't have gone that far, and like as not was still somewhere in the boundaries of the practice. Perhaps she had gone to the therapy garden? Bulda nodded; she'd check the garden and then call the police if necessary.

"...yes, I think we can conclude she has a dislike of confinement," Pabbie said. "Unsurprising, really."

Bulda walked over to the therapy garden, stopping in her tracks at the entrance. The girl stood there, a Samsung phone in her hand, and she was moving a finger over the screen in a familiar swipe motion. Bulda was all too aware of what that swipe meant, and had been since July the previous year.

"Pokémon Go?" she said, a note of disbelief in her voice. "You broke my windows for Pokémon Go!?"

The girl looked up. "I caught a Rattata! I didn't have a Rattata! I've been walking all around the grounds and I never found a Rattata. I found Charmanders and Pikachus all the time, but never a Rattata."

"You wouldn't stay in your room because you had to catch Pokémon!? And how did you not have a Rattata? My kids say Zubat, Rattata and Pidgey are way too common!" Bulda took a deep breath; losing it was not going to help anything. The conversation was sure to do more to melt her brain, a fact she knew from having raised eight children, and melted brains always had to be postponed.

"I wasn't going to waste Incense on bringing Pokémon to my room. Nothing was ever in my room anyway. So I went around the grounds."

Bulda tried to think of a rebuttal to that, and failed. According to her kids, Incense varied from 'useful in an ultra-rare circumstance' to 'absolutely useless—see, Mom, I didn't say 'fucking'... goddamnit!' As she didn't play the game herself, she was forced to rely on their assessments. Taking a few breaths, Bulda watched as the girl eeped and swiped her fingers again.

"I assume you didn't talk because no one ever thought to talk about Pokémon Go?"

"I have nothing to say to anyone otherwise," the girl said. "Oooh, I caught a Paras... oh, I've already caught that one." The girl tapped her phone, closing the app, and slid the phone into her pocket. Once that was done, she looked at Bulda. Her face was blank, though weeks of seeing the blank expression had somewhat accustomed Bulda to it.

"Would you like to go inside and talk to Pabbie about Pokémon Go?" Bulda said.

"Very well."

The girl disappeared into the office, and Bulda took the dustpan and brush she stored in her boot out, beginning to collect the broken glass. She had done one side of the car before she heard the girl speak again.

"He wants to see you."

Bulda thought about handing the dustpan and brush to the girl, thought better of it, and after disposing of the glass, she entered Pabbie's office.

"I thought you gave up smoking!" she said.

Pabbie fumbled with the match, finally lighting it, and touching it to the tobacco in his pipe. He ignored Bulda's outburst, puffing on the pipe.

"Discharge the girl," he said. "There's no doubt she was kidnapped and abused, Bulda, but there's also no doubt the Austrian authorities got it wrong. She had merely regressed when they found her; I suspect they discovered that she'd killed her captors, and said nothing about it as there was nothing to do, legally speaking."

"They should have told us. I'll file a complaint," Bulda said.

Pabbie dropped his pipe, staring at Bulda. He retrieved his pipe without looking away from Bulda, and once he had it between his teeth again, he shook his head. "No," he said, and Bulda had never heard such a harsh tone from him. "Discharge... no. Just go home, Bulda. Forget the girl ever existed."

"Pabbie, I don't understand!"

"The girl never existed, Bulda. You were never here today. Go home, hug your children, and thank God that you never met the girl." He lurched up, grabbing her arm, and shoved her towards the door. "For God's sake, go!"

Bulda stumbled out of Pabbie's office, hearing the door slam behind her. She looked around.

The girl was gone, and so was her car.

In the driveway were the crushed remains of a phone.

TQAH

Holly sighed, staring at the email.

"Is there a problem?"

Holly blinked, looking up to see a woman in her late teens standing at the counter. "Were you at the door?"

"I was there a while," the woman said. "When I pushed the door it opened... are you closed?"

Holly threw up her hands. "Oh, for fuck's sake... the day started badly with having to fire my receptionist and it's just gotten worse from there." She shook her head, looking up with a slight smile. "Are you here because you want to work here, or because you'd like to see James?"

The woman shrugged. "I'm Rapunzel. How much are you paying your receptionist?"

"Not as much as the ladies get," Holly said, a grin crossing her face. "I do the daytime shift, so I'd want you for nightshift. I can offer you thirty an hour on a trial basis; assuming you work out, that'll rise to fifty."

Rapunzel stuck a finger in her mouth, biting a nail. "I'm not planning on keeping the job once university starts. If you'll let me set my own hours like the ladies do, I'll take fifteen an hour."

Holly shrugged. "It saves me having to look for a receptionist for a while. When can you start?"

Rapunzel pulled folded notes from her purse. "I'd like to see Mia, and then I'll be available after that."

"Mia won't be working for a few days."

"STD check?"

Holly nodded, coming around the counter. "Let's go to my office, and I'll fill you in on how I run things around here."


End file.
